


Enigma

by Houdinimag



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Murder, Slow Burn, Swearing, Vigilantism, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24224608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houdinimag/pseuds/Houdinimag
Summary: Nines struggles with the death of his partner and lover while looking for the murderer who did it.However, the answers he'll find may not be the one he's been looking for.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	1. The last straw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naRK800](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naRK800/gifts).



> Just a short glimpse into the beginnings of my work. Mysteryyyyyy...

One could almost smell the tension in the DPD precinct, small as it was. Tina didn’t even make any tea that day. Connor was glancing at Nines with worry and Hank would do the same every once in a while. He would share a look with Connor, and then go back to his work. Their workload was important, obviously, but not more than Nine’s mental health, which they saw deteriorating by the day.

Nines sat in his chair as straight as a ramrod. His fingers didn’t touch the computer screen but the device browsed through thousands of criminal records in a speed of light anyway. He was looking for something. For someone.

Hank saw that and shared a worried look with Connor, a little more insistent.

He nodded towards Nines. _Do something Connor_

Rk800 sighed, a human habit he picked up from Lieutenant, and raised his brow. _Do you think I don’t know that?_

He stood up anyway and walked up to his younger android brother.

Nines was either too occupied with his search or he didn’t care about Connor approaching him. He blinked a few times and the computer made another calculation of sorts, which showed hundreds of addresses belonging to criminals in the last year.

Connor neared Gavin’s empty chair, intending to take a seat.

Nines immediately looked up, his LED blinking rapidly red like an alarm bell.

“Don’t sit there.”, he ordered. Connor stopped abruptly but conceded with his request. He understood emotions better than him and knew how important a sentimental object was to people in grief.

“Can I sit on the desk, then?”

Nines frowned.

“Is there something you wanted? I’m busy.”

If Conor were more human, he would have swallowed loudly, clasped his hands together, or fidgeted in any other way. Instead, he only blinked a few times and continued. He sat on the edge of the desk, as he said he would.

“I know you don’t like other people prying into your affairs, but I must admit that I and Hank are concerned about your recent behaviour.”

Nines didn’t even look up. The computer stopped calculating Detroit premises and now showed a number of codes and mysterious data. One phrase kept repeating over and over on the screen, like a blinking neon danger sign.

_AINIGMA TIS ATHINSIAS_

Which has been closely translated into: “The mystery of immortality” from Greek. It was the only clue from a past case of a missing person which had been found at the time, and although Fowler had ordered to put it away in the archives a month ago, Nines seemed to strongly disagree with his decision. He would be seen digging through old reports and camera records in the evening and then found doing exact same thing in the morning. When asked about it, he would either glare until the person left him alone or give a short laconic response.

Connor put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, offering comfort. Nines didn’t flinch or acknowledge him in any other way. Or so it seemed.

“It’s been almost two years, Nines. We have done extensive research and investigation on this matter and we didn’t find anything. You should occupy yourself with other cases, until…”

“I have already finished them. You can find the reports in the usual folder.” Nines snapped. Connor’s line of questioning must have finally caught up with him because he tensed and avoided his eyes more actively. It wouldn’t work, of course.

“You finished them? Without going to a crime scene?”

“Yes. There are these things called cameras if you weren’t aware, and I’ve managed to solve most of the so-called cases before you graced this precinct with your presence, Connor.” He said, sarcastically.

“You know that’s not how a police officer should…”

“Spare me the lecture. I’ve done my work and now have more time for more important matters.”

Nines never turned away from the computer and his snappy attitude mean to scare his annoying brother away. What he forgot, or didn’t want to acknowledge, is that Connor was the predecessor of his model and thus an expert negotiator. So was Nines.

“I know how much you miss him but hunting down that criminal won’t bring him back.”

Nines LED shone yellow. He remained focused on his search once again, intent on ignoring Connor in hopes that he’d go away. No such chance.

“Nines, you are hurting yourself. He wouldn’t want that.”

Which was apparently wrong thing to say, because Nines suddenly stood up, grabbed Connor by his lapels, and lifted him from the desk he was leaning on. Hank stood up as well, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun. Everyone’s attention was now focused on the android duo.

“That’s the fucking problem, Connor.” Nines growled, “No one knows what he’d done because he’s not here.”

“Nines…”

“So don’t you dare tell me what he would do, when you’re already acting like he should be forgotten like some fucking trash! I’ll find the motherfucker who did this to him, and I’ll rip him apart!”

“NINES! MY OFFICE, NOW!”

The android in question turned his head to Fowler, who had also noticed the commotion in the middle of the precinct. His LED was bright red, pulsing, pulsing, pulsing, and then yellow. Finally, he let go of Connor, who looked slightly shocked at his behaviour.

“You need help, brother.”

Nines just stood there, looking at the floor, and then he turned away towards the captain's office.


	2. Not done yet

Captain Fowler was a strict man with principles who didn’t take any shit from anyone. Respected by most, feared by some, he posed an authoritative figure in the DPD since the day of his promotion. Right now though? Nines thought he resembled a very disappointed and tired headmaster.

“Sit down.”, he said and moved to his own chair without looking at the android. Nines hesitated but eventually obliged him. Fowler put his head against his crossed fingers and sighed loudly, as he leaned on the desk.

“This behaviour cannot go on, Nines.”, he began. “You are neglecting your duties as an officer and as an active investigator.”

“That’s not true, I’ve…”

“Don’t interrupt me.”

Nines wasn’t easily intimidated, not even now, but out of respect for the captain, he decided to remain silent. Fowler cleared his throat.

“I understand that Detective Reed’s death has had a profound impact on your mental health. We’re all grieving him in our own way. But we make sure our grief does not impede our daily lives. If you wish to continue your career as an officer in this precinct, you’ll attend mandatory therapy sessions with Dr. Bennet, starting next Monday.”  
Nines had an uncontrollable urge to show captain fowler what he thinks about this idea, however, he wasn’t sure he was ready to salute his career away with a middle finger. Therapy? How would therapy help a machine? Alive and thinking machine, but it didn’t change the fact that his psyche worked a little differently from most humans.

“With all due respect captain, you realize that I’m an android?”

“I have not forgotten that. Dr. Bennet specializes in android psychology and has an impeccable reputation in the community of New Jericho. I trust her credentials.”, he retorted.

“…I assume this is not up for negotiation?” said Nines.

“No.”

“…”

Rk900 stood up and nodded. Captain Fowler seemed a little surprised that he agreed so quickly, but the stern expression rarely let other emotions peek through. He passed a document with a therapy declaration for nines to sign, which he did, and then stood up himself. He followed RK to the door and put a hand on his shoulder. Nines remembered how Gavin hated pity and would always rebuke such sentimental gestures. He understands now why.

“I don’t want to lose another good detective, Rk.”, he said. It was captains way of saying, he would miss him. Understandable. Nines only nodded and walked out to return to his own desk.

The next few days flew by like paper planes on windy autumn weather. They were dull, filled with mundane paperwork, and even more boring cases of either domestic abuse, vandalism, or shop robbery. To a highly advanced mind like Nine’s it felt like he was given exam papers for pre-schoolers and then asked whether it was too difficult for him to handle. He knew that was partially Captain Fowler's decision. Perhaps taking his mind off of harder cases would have worked on a human being, but Nines didn’t want to be idle. This was a workaholic’s nightmare.

On the other hand, his private investigation which had been postponed thanks to Connor, was sitting quietly at the back of his mind. All the goddamn time. And it was slowly driving him crazy.

Rk800 understood somewhat captain Fowlers misconception of an android mind and also agreed that keeping his brother away from cases was resulting in an opposite effect. So, being the goody older sibling, he would come over often and ask for advice or “accidentally” leave investigation papers on his desk. Only Hank noticed their pattern and as long as the criminals got behind the bars, he didn’t mind. One time he even let Rk900 sit in an interrogation. As a witness of course. Nothin’ shady here, not at all.

And Nines was grateful. At least 89% grateful according to the latest calculations. The other percent wished his brother would just shut his crap and either leave or help in his own investigation.  
The investigation of Gavin Reed’s death.

No. No, don’t think about it.

But it was like thinking about a pink elephant, entirely impossible once the thought had begun to circulate in his mind and oh god, those eyes, he remembered them clearly, blood, blood, so much, its everywherejesuschristhe’sdeadwhatdoido….

“Nines. Nines! Hey, wake up!”

Nines opened his eyes to his own image, reflected in Rk800’s worried look.  
It was 9:00 in the morning and Hank had just arrived with Connor to the precinct. He sat more casually in his chair and avoided their concerned looks, slightly embarrassed. Nightmares were apparently a by-product of deviancy. Fucking fantastic.

“I’m fine.”, he said.

“Did you sleep here? I thought you’ve gone home yesterday in the evening?”  
Nines wanted to deflect, tell a convincing lie about some bulshit, like looking for a missing clue to his current case, but it turns out he couldn’t. Not to Connor who has done so much for him already.  
He apologized to him after that incident before and his brother just shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing. Like it didn’t hurt him. Nines knew better.

“I…I didn’t go back home last night.”, he admitted.

“Why?”

“I can’t, Connor. That house…I can’t…”

Connor frowned and his LED turned yellow for a second there.

“How often do you not go home, Nines? When was the last time you went there?”

This was something Nines was very embarrassed to admit and so, he fidgeted on the chair while playing casually with his silver lighter. A tiny thing in his hands, but it helped in calibrating his cognitive and physical functions. A Christmas gift from Gavin.

“Nines…how often?”

“…not too often.”

“You know deflecting won’t work on me, so I’m wondering why you’re even trying.” Sighed Connor. “I’m just trying to help you.”

Nines felt his blush sensor activate and he dismissed them immediately.

“I know, and I’m grateful for that. But I’m also capable of taking care of myself…”

Hank snorted into his coffee cup but didn’t join the conversation. Connor gave him a look of reproach.

“I’m not offering pity, I know how much you despise it. I just wanted you to know that Hank and I would gladly welcome you in our home if that’s what you need.”

Nines recalled the last time he spent a night at Anderson’s house and felt even more embarrassed, if possible at the memory. It was also the first time he found out about their relationship. He liked to visit them but recently just didn’t have the time.

“No, thank you. I’ll think about it, though.”, he said. Connor smiled and patted his back.

“I have another case if you want to take a look?”

“…Sure, let me see.”

Later that day, Rk800 offered to take him home again, and once more, he declined the offer. Hank squeezed his shoulder in a comforting gesture and wished him a good night. Once each person in the precinct left their station, and only a few remained to work on harder cases, Nines stood up from his chair. He shut down the computer and walked toward the corridor, which leads further into the archives section. He made sure that no one followed him.

“Enter password”, intoned the automated voice.  
“Fuckingpassword”, Nines imitated Lieutenants's voice and the door clicked open. He entered and closed it securely.

He walked through a narrow aisle of high shelves and when he found the right one, he pulled the lever to separate column H from column G. When the shelves parted for him like the sea, he stepped forward until he got to a particular box with two names on it.  
Gavin Reed/Enigma  
It took a while to get Hank's password but all he had to do, was to stand near him when he accessed the archives himself. Now, he was going to take this box and finally return home to continue his search without any unnecessary interference. Captain Fowler can kiss his ass.


	3. More clues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines gets to work and has bad thoughts. He also finds out something.

The first sessions with Dr Bennet were met with scepticism on Nine’s part. He didn’t know what to expect and despite all the information he downloaded about her, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Although deviancy let androids feel emotions, there was always that voice in the back of his head telling him “that androids are machines” and “a virus can’t really change what you are”. Gavin used to reassure him, in his rare moments of sensibility, that it didn’t fucking matter. He would kick his insecurities in the butt and then he’d kiss him and they would make out until Princess started making a fuss about her empty bowl of food. Funny. He used to think differently when they first met.

Nines sat in the waiting room until the Dr called his name.

She was a petite woman in her 30’s with medium-length brown hair and a pair of thin glasses. She had a notepad ready and invited him to sit wherever he wanted. Nines chose a sofa near the window. It had a nice view of a beautiful apple orchard which surrounded a small statue of the institute’s patron.

“Tell me Nines, why did you come to me?”, she said in a calm voice. He frowned.

“Captain Fowler suggested strongly to attend a therapy session unless I want to lose my job.”, he stated truthfully. He did research before coming and one of the biggest advice given by scientific websites was to be as open and honest as possible. OR as much as it was comfortable.

“Jeffrey…” she groaned. Her displeasure with the captain’s decision would usually create a sense of familiarity in Nines. Some sort of camaraderie. Not this time. He felt nothing.

“I apologise for his behaviour. This changes things a little.”, she said.

“How so?”

“I usually conduct a session for patients who wish to be here. So, before we begin I would like to ask you, if you wish to continue, despite your supervisor's tactless decision?”

Nines thought about it for a few seconds. In those microseconds, he went through a million thoughts at once and he asked himself if he actually needed help in managing his grief. One side of him scoffed at the notion. Although his daily routines had been long disturbed and the essence of normalcy evaporated with Gavin’s death, he was still one of the best android detectives in the DPD. The fact that he stopped caring about integrating into a human environment might have been one of the main causes of concern for his peers. Once, before he got stuck to his desk, he almost killed a criminal who tried to escape because he thought it more efficient to just strike him unconscious. It was also the first time Tina had been genuinely scared of him. Chris had offered to take him to a bar and he told him to shut up and get back to work. He distanced himself from most in the precinct and now only Connor was brave enough to approach him. He and Hank. The Lieutenant considered him almost a family member, thanks to his relationship with Rk800.

Does he need therapy? What does he even want? Besides that murderer’s head on a pike, he didn’t want or need anything. He could just as well quit his job at DPD and go to hell. However, catching the killer without the DPD’s recourses would be almost a hundred times more difficult.

Therapy it is then.

“I would like to continue, Dr Bennet. I believe it may prove beneficial for my mental health and perhaps help me organise my thoughts.”

She smiled softly and opened her notepad.

“Very well. Perhaps we could begin by telling me about yourself a little. You’re a detective android, yes?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Do you enjoy your job?”

Nines frowned at that and blinked a few times. Did he? Did anything besides vengeance exist anymore? His programming immediately provided an accommodating answer and he chose the one he like the most. After all, these questions were useless. Talking about feelings won’t make him less broken, less angry or hopeless. He was a deviated machine, not a human.

He talked about his job in neutral tones, judging the Dr each time and observing her noting habits. To his surprise, she didn’t take any.

Once the 50 minutes of the session passed by, she stood up, shook his hand and asked if he’s going to book another session. He agreed. She gave him her name card with her number and he put it inside his jacket. Next session on Friday.

Something in her expression piqued his curiosity and he asked about her notes.

“Oh, I sometimes write them down right after the session.”, she replied.

Nines nodded and walked out the door without saying goodbye.

The box. He put it on the table in his and Gavin’s apartment. A medium-sized, rectangular box with every record and file from the case. There was also the evidence but that had been neatly tidied up and classified long ago. Thankfully, Nines was the one taking pictures.

Stepping into the apartment felt surprisingly easier than he thought. He expected to feel sorrow at the doorstep, grief on the threshold, anger once he stepped in and the overwhelming sense of hopelessness at the sight of an empty room. Instead, he felt nothing. Last time he came here, he stood for an hour then came back to the precinct and went into stasis mode until the next day.

Time to get to work.

He opened the box and looked at the first day of the investigation.

Gavin Reed was found by a priest in St. Michaels church at around 9:00 am, 12th June, hanging from the statue of Jesus Christ himself. His heart had been ripped out and his limbs were nailed to the cross, just like the holy figure. Except he still wore the same clothes he had when he left the precinct on the 28th of May. Their last conversation was imbedded in Nines memories, like an unbreakable code worse than the RA9 virus.

_“Hey, dipshit. I’m gonna buy some cigarettes, be right back.”_

_“No need to state the obvious. You’re capability to annoy me has increased by 10% since your last pack.”_

_“Can it, asshole. I need them.”_

_Nines memory looked up and saw Gavin’s smirk as he blew a kiss his way. His sensors, however, indicated that the kiss was replaced by a more vulgar sign behind his back. No, not his sensors. He just knew Gavin that well._

Nines blinked. His LED blinking red for just a fraction of a second before turning yellow. He looked down and saw his hands clenching around the mug of thirium he was holding and noticed a few cracks here and there.

He picked up another file from the box. It was a series of photographs, which Nines took using a specialised program in his model. One that could see thirium, even once it evaporated. Androids could see it but not humans. Nevertheless, the pictures were put in chronological order and sent for analysis to the station.

Nines noticed his hands shaking.

He blinked once and opened his HUD to diagnose the problem.

[DO YOU WISH TO CALIBRATE SYSTEMS?]

[Y/N]

…

[REQUEST CANCELLED]

There was nothing wrong, just the deviancy acting up again. Fuckin virus.

He picked up the first picture. It depicted Gavin’s body and every inch of the cross in a 3D vision. He could see the thirium fingerprints around the wooden pole, scratches and small indentations upon the surface, as well as the macabre looking thirium-painted mask on Gavin’s face. A mask of a skull.

The murderer left no message here. Only pictures and signs. At first, they thought it was weird that this person went through so much trouble and the only clue left was a web of woven lines, crosses and swirls in neat patches on the walls. Connor wondered if they symbolised anything, but the search yielded identically empty results.

Nines quickly found out what they meant.

They weren’t numbers or lines of code but a picture and a plethora of allegories strewn about. Perhaps deviancy was good for something after all.

The lines leading to the victim – bloodlines.

Strange pictures of webs and symbols – mostly from Norse mythology – indicated message to the gods.

Gavin’s mask of death – no allegory here, or at least not the one he had figure out yet.

Nines felt his hands shaking more with each picture of his dead partner and he could feel the sea tide coming to swallow him up if he continued. He had to. There was no other way.

Even if it takes him eternity, he’ll find that bastard and then…

…then what?

What if his efforts finally pay off and he finds the killer, what then? Will he go back to work as nothing happened? Like he hadn’t lost a part of himself, a fucking beating heart, deviant fucking heart, motherfucking emotion box?! Huh, Nines?! You’re just going to pretend he’s not here, that you can’t see him in each corner of the house, smirking like the daredevil he was, giving you his loving wink as you both entered the bedroom and…

…nines blinked and saw his hand on the door handle of their shared bedroom. The one he refused to unlock.

How did he get here?

He slowly let go of the handle. Took one step back, then another and another and another.

Until he sat back on the sofa in their living room.

[ENTER STASIS MODE]

[Y/N]

…

…

[REQUEST CANCELLED]

[THIRIUM LEVELS AT: 84%]

Nines shook his head and picked up another picture from the pile. He’ll enter stasis once he finishes analysing all the evidence he previously wasn’t privy to. There was a lot to unpack.

The cracked thirium mug stood on the coffee table, untouched.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As he worked during the night, some of the clues started to line up in a certain direction. There was a picture of a similar victim and she also had her body mangled in a very symbolic way. A message to the Gods.

Then he noticed that the thirium must have been painted with a human hand, despite the lack of fingerprints. The lines were slightly uneven and shaky. Most humans would have omitted that little detail.

Then, he noticed something in the pictures that clicked.

Each of the victims had a face mask made of thirium. Only androids could see it. Probably not all of them, it might be just the RK line. What if the killer left this clue on purpose? What if he wanted them to see it?

Nines put it in a small file in his memory banks.

What about the cryptic messages, which no one was able to crack? The “secret of immortality”?

Connor found out while investigating the crime scene that their killer must have been a tall male but Cyberlife never had anyone tall enough to fit the description. It must have been someone else, just as good at encrypting messages only androids could read. That day when he was sifting through the criminal records, he was looking for anyone who fit that description but with no results. It was frustrating.

Suddenly, Nines got an incoming call. Of course, his older brother would check on him.

_“Nines? Are you at home?”_

_“…yes. I’m in our apartment.”_

_“What are you doing?”_

_“I’m painting.”_

_“…really?”_

_“No, I’m cleaning the house. It has become too messy for my tastes.”_

_“Do you want me to help you?”_

_“No.”_

Nines felt a pause in the air.

_“…are you sure? You don’t have to do it alone.”_

_“I’m perfectly capable of completing simple household chores, thank you kindly.”_

_“Oh, I thought you were…”_

Nines felt his fists clench against the sofa and leave indentation marks.

_“You thought what?”_

_“That you were cleaning up Gavin’s things. It’s been two years after all.”_

_“…”_

_“…Nines? I’m sorry did I overstep – “_

[CALL CANCELLED]

The android hasn’t felt more satisfied in recent days than at this moment. Suck it up bro, he thought.

He didn’t even want to waste time thinking about Connor or wonder which part of his deviancy went wrong to be so fucking tactless.

Back to the evidence. He had found a small trace. A tiny breakthrough.

He looked at the symbols and then at the encrypted code. Then he looked up in the police database anyone with an affiliation with art. Specifically mythological art and he found three candidates who were not only capable of coding but also painting. One was James Deegrane, a rich guy who owned a few art shops, living in the outskirts of Detroit. Another was an old lady with a programming and hacking degree who also sold beautiful landscape paintings.

The last one was a little surprising, though.

Carl Manfred.


	4. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines experiences more flashbacks finds more clues (or not) and something unexpected happens.

Nines woke up on the next day ready to continue his investigation, but he had to return to the DPD and secure a falsified search warrant. All he should do, was to get captain Fowlers signature. Easy task for the most advanced detective android in town, right?

Heck no.

The search warrant used to be signed by the judge based on an affidavit. That was the law ten years ago. Now, however, each document needed a captains stamp, judges signature and an electronic sticker which is a coded date of the warrant. Nines was certain that obtaining two of these things could prove challenging, but not impossible. The micro-sticker, though? A tougher nut to crack.

The only people in possession of these stickers weren’t even in the precinct, but in the attorney district, two streets away and Nines had neither the justification to obtain one nor the means. It would be equal to breaking into a bank and stealing billion-worth diamonds.

He sat by his desk and turned the computer on with a single blink. Before he had time to think further on the matter, however, he saw Tina walking by. She hesitated but eventually approached him with a small smile.

“Hey, Nines.”

“Good morning, Miss Chen.”

She fiddled her thumbs on the coffee cup.

“How are you today?”, she asked, and then quickly added. “You know, we’re going to have a small birthday party this Saturday and I wondered if you’d like to come?”

Nine’s first thought was to scoff at the idea but he resisted the urge. He never really wanted to push Tina away, it just happened naturally, the more he lost himself in his work as the days gone by. So, he gave her a gentle smile and activated social protocols.

“I’m sorry Miss Chen. I would love to come, but I have much to do here and I simply cannot leave my work unfinished.”

Tina’s face fell. She seemed really disappointed as if Nine’s company was something people actually desired.

“You know”, she begun “ Gavin wouldn’t want you to be alone like that.”

Nines clenched his fists but remained silent. This was Tina, she didn’t deserve his anger.

“We don’t know what he would want.”

“I do. And you know that too, he was your partner, so lets cut that ‘we’ll never know’ bulshit, Nines. He wouldn’t want to see his partner become an isolated prick with a stick up his butt.”

She started walking away, but then took a few steps back just to say “the birthday invitation is open, call me if you change your mind.”, and walked off. Nines stared at her back, his LED spinning yellow, yellow, yellow, red, yellow and finally blue. Perhaps he’ll consider her offer. Perhaps.

At the same moment, he saw Connor looking at him across the office room. He must have heard Tina’s offer because a moment later Nines gets an instant message through their internal connection.

_[You should consider her offer. Even if it’s for a short time, friendly human interaction can prove to be beneficial for your mental health]_

_[I didn’t ask for a piece of medical advice, connor]_

_[I’ll be there too. We could go together.]_

_[I said, I’ll consider it. Stop pushing.]_

_[…I’m sorry. I do that a lot, don’t I?]_

_[Quite.]_

_[It’s just…I miss you Nines.]_

Nines frowned, keeping his eyesight on the computer while his tasks downloaded.

_[What do you mean? I’m right here, every day.]_

_[I miss our conversations and working together on a case. I miss my younger brother.]_

_[…]_

_[…Nines?]_

_[…I’m sorry Connor. Have I really been neglecting you this much?]_

_[…well, you haven’t visited me and Hank in a while now. It would be nice to know how you’re doing.]_

_[I’m fine. Better than before, since I’ve started therapy with Dr Bennet.]_

This time it was Connor who frowned, and then smiled widely.

_[Truly? That’s great news! I’m so happy for you!]_

_[Thank you. Now let's get back to work, shall we?]_

Hank snapped his fingers to get his partners attention.

“Hey, what are you two talking about? Care to share the hot gossip?”

Connor straightened his posture and focused more intently on the computer screen.

“It was nothing Lieutenant, I asked Nines how he was doing.”

They talked back and forth like an old married couple as Nines watched them. Sometimes he would listen to their conversation and feel a small pain near his central biocomponents, though he sustained no injury. The feeling was odd and added more anxiety to his daily worries. Like a worm wriggling in the apple. Envy.

He looked at Gavin’s empty seat and wondered why Captain hasn’t assigned him a new partner yet. As Connor had once said, it had been almost two years now.

Well, one year, eight months and twenty days to be precise. He could calculate hours and second but that would be redundant.

Looking back at Hank and Connor, the feeling returned and he went back to another memory, just for a few second, recalling one of Gavin’s better days.

_“Hey, Tin-can! Check this out – the Berzowski left his apartment just before the attack, right? That’s what he said, but all the cameras say that’s a load of bull! Better, that kid’s drone captured how perfectly fucked up his alibi is! He never left his house!”_

_Gavin grinned like a cat that caught a mouse. “We fuckin’ got him!”_

_Nines checked the data and indeed, the evidence was clear. All they needed was a search warrant. He frowned a little at the mention of a child._

_“Where did you get the drone footage from?”_

_Gavin waved his hand._

_“Ah, there was a kid nearby who lived in the neighbourhood. Had a sweet tech, probably one of those rich pussies, so I sucked up to him and he said he was testing his new drone that day. Gave me everything I wanted and needed. Piece of cake.”_

_“…”_

_“What? Da fuck are you looking at?”_

_“I had no idea you had a way with children, detective.”_

_Gavin retracted his smile and now sulked hunched over his laptop like the aforementioned teenager. His cheeks warmed up in a rosy colour._

_“’s not that fuckin’ hard”, he mumbled._

_“For someone with your attitude? It must have been like talking to a mirror.”_

_“Fuck you!”_

_“Perhaps later, If you ask nicely.”_

_Gavin groaned and ducked his head under his arms. He tightened the hoodie around his face, absolutely avoiding showing his beetroot colours._

_“…I hate you.”, he whispered. Nines heard it and smirked. He knew what his partner really meant._

_“You love me.”, he whispered back._

_They finished their paperwork, send a request for a search warrant and once the 9 o’clock chimed, they left the DPD building side by side. It began to rain cats and dogs, so Nines produced an umbrella from one of the “lost and found” boxes. Then, when Gavin was sure that no one was looking, he pulled his partner into a soft kiss, full of longing after a whole day of waiting. They drove home._

Nines switched off the computer and discreetly clenched his fists around the armrests. He could almost feel the soft touch of Gavin’s lips. His five-o’clock shadow scratching the smooth android skin and the tender caress of his fingertips around his neck. It used to send exciting electric current throughout his entire nervous system and he would have had to be careful, lest he accidentally closes his arms around Gavin with too much force in response.

He wished he was still here.

He wished Gavin was sitting in that chair opposite his.

He wished that he was faster, stronger, smarter, more of anything just to stop those events from happening.

Irrationally, he also wished he could go back in time.

Nines blinked a few times and decided to close those trains of thought before Connor caught him brooding again. He turned the computer on again. No new email, nothing to report except the mundane work of checking for stolen cars and other vehicles.

He thought about his lead on the coding artist.

One of them was physically strong enough to prepare the murder scene and drag the body on the cross, but might not be smart enough to create an android-eyes-only secret code.

The old lady had coding in her little finger, according to her number of awards in the programming department, but she was over 60 years old. Nines doubted, she could lift more than a few pounds in a shopping mall.

And then the biggest surprise. Carl Manfred.

They met only once, during an investigation and Mr. Manfred was a witty, old man with very perceptive eyes. He was the oldest of all three suspects, but something tells him, there might be a connection between Mr Manfred and the killer. Not direct, but something important nonetheless.

Suddenly, just as he was about to return to his work, Captain Fowler opened his glass office door.

“Nines, Connor and Anderson. In my office.”, he ordered. Hank looked at Connor quizzically and shrugged his shoulders. Usually, there was more shouting involved.

“Trouble, Hank?”, asked Connor.

“Who knows, better not keep him waiting.”, the man replied and they left their desks to see what was going on. Nines was just as curious, so he joined them quickly.

Once inside the Captain's office, they sat on the two offered chairs. Nines closed the door and in the same moment, captain Jeffrey clicked a button to activate shadow walls around them. Connor looked at Hank and saw him giving the other man a calculated look. Something must be quite serious going on. They waited in silence.

Captain was visibly more nervous than before if that was even possible and he sat by the desk, reaching for a glass of water.

“Sir, did something happen?”, Connor asked gently.

“Yeah, you could say that. There was a murder.”

You could hear the pin drop. Hank frowned. People got murdered every day, so what was so special about that one?

“Do we know who died?”, he asked.

“Yes.”

Hank waited patiently for an answer. Judging from Connors looks and Hanks behaviour, Nines figured that the matter could be personal, thus the man's hesitance and lack of immediate summary of the case.

Captain Fowler sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“A young woman was found in an alley near the Coffee district. Her body was missing some organs and our dispatch team has found traces of thirium around her, like some kind of fucked up ritual. I want you to put this case as a top priority and immediately investigate the crime scene.”

Nines had a bad feeling about this. Missing organs? Thirium painted everywhere? It sounded too familiar and if he were human, he'd probably get goosebumps right now.

Suddenly Captain covered his face with his big hand and his shoulders shook which instantly made Hank stand up from his chair to comfort his friend.

“Who died, Jeffrey?”, he asked carefully. He put an arm on his shoulder, but the captain, probably embarrassed by his own weakness, shrugged it off. He thanked Hank by nodding.

There was a long pause before the captains spoke again.

“Her name was Jane Fowler. She was my daughter.”

Everyone stared at him. Nines could see Connors social protocols whirring inside his head but Hank grabbed his arm before he could say anything. He shook his head. _Not now, Connor._

Nines, however, knew exactly what to say at this moment.

“Fuck.”

“Exactly”, Fowler replied.


	5. The crime scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They look at the crime scene and find something...unusual.

The arrival at the crime scene was met with the usual amount of journalists, trying to get the “hot scope” and the officers trying just as hard to forbid their entrance. There were two cars, standing at the mouth of a dark alley, separating the lovely coffee street from the dark labyrinth of the underworld. Nines exited the car as soon as they stopped and before Connor could grab him, he marched towards the darkness, now illuminated by a few standing lights.

Ben Collins was waiting for them at the entrance of the alley. He was about to greet Nines but the android rushed past him, not even acknowledging his presence, which made him jump back in surprise. Connor sends him an apologetic look once he reached the police tape with Hank.

“I’ve never seen anyone that eager to investigate a crime scene before!”, he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. Hank sighed. “I’ll handle him.”, he grumbled.

When Nines stepped into the alley, it almost resembled stepping into a cone of silence. His superior hearing could still register the obnoxious questions of paparazzi bombarding the line of police officers, who stood like immovable gargoyles, but it seemed so far away. There, just a few meters ahead, lay the body.

Hank and Connor have just joined him and the Lieutenant immediately grabbed Nines’ by the arm.

“You should slow down robo-cop, this isn’t a happy playground, all right?”, he chided him while Connor watched in hesitation on which side to choose. Nines didn’t seem to care, as his eyes focused on the scene before him. The initial characteristics of the crime scene have given him the drive and push to action he hasn’t felt in months. It was obvious, that their long-forgotten serial killer had returned, he could feel it. Metaphorically, of course.

After a while, though, Nines nodded and Hank let his arm go. Rk didn’t want to jeopardize his mission due to some deviancy errors in his system. That just wouldn’t do.

Hank stepped forward and reviewed the scene. He took a long look at the young woman’s body and a deep sadness crossed his face.

“yeah…that’s definitely Fowler Junior. She always had that green bag with zigzags with her. God…”

Connor smoothed the back of his jacket in a comforting manner, as he stood next to him. “I’ll analyze the body. Nine’s could you investigate the surroundings?”, he said. He was met with Nines steely gaze but no voice of protest came up. He nodded and they split up, as much as they could between the narrow walls of this passage. Connor carefully kneeled beside Jane. Nines looked around.

The moment he activated what Hank sometimes called “thirium vision”, he felt all his biocomponents shake in anger, but also excitement mixed with anticipation, the last of which he’ll never admit to anyone.

The woman was positioned on the ground with her legs lined up together and hands crossed on her chest. She looked like a soul ready for her final voyage into the world of unliving. In the thirium vision, however, she appeared to have large wings, stretching on both sides of the alley, high up the walls. As high as the killer could paint them. He even left circles of runes on both sides, all of them spelling a message to the gods, just like before.

He kneeled by one of the inscriptions and read:

“Carry me, all-seeing one, to the gates of Valhalla and take my body in exchange. The soul will remain eternal.”

It swirled darkly on the brick wall like a serpent, trying to eat itself. Nines noted that in his database. He quickly looked up the myth of Ouroboros and relayed the information to Hank. The old man nodded and noted the info in his own notebook. Then he turned to his partner.

“Found anything, Connor?”, he asked.

“Yes. There are thirium markings on both of her arms and legs. However, there is something different here.”

“What do you mean?”

Nines was also intrigued and decided to kneel next to his brother. He soon found out what Connor meant. The young victim looked like a flesh canvas for a murder-tattoo artist, just like the other victims, except for her face.

The death mask was unfinished. It didn’t seem deliberate, it looked more like the killer was in the middle of his work when something – or someone- interrupted him. Half of her face has been covered in paint but the brush strokes vanished on her left cheek, softly covering the upper lip and part of her nose.

“Someone else must have been here, Hank. The killer didn’t finish his job. I can surmise from the paint strokes that he was probably taken by surprise.”, said Connor.

“Are we sure it was someone and not his phone ringing at the wrong time?”

“No, Lieutenant. I have recognized two footprints near her body. Here”, he pointed next to her ribs. “and here”, he pointed above her head. Now that Hank got a closer look, he could see some indentations on the ground. He noted it. 

Nines stood up and surveyed the victim’s nearest surroundings with his superior vision. Just a few meters above her head among countless rubbish like an abandoned butter knife, a few scraps of a cigarette pack was…wait, was that…?

Hank looked up to see what has Nines found and then covered his eyes in embarrassment.

“’ Cmon, are you serious?!”, he groaned.

“I can see blood on this…object, Lieutenant.”, Nines explained as he bent down to pick up the strangest murder weapon they probably ever found. Connor’s look of disgust said it all.

It was a part of a kitchen knife embedded in a giant black dildo and tightened with a piece of twine. Whoever designed this must have a unique sense of humor. That, or they needed a psychiatrist badly.

“Whose blood is it?”, and just as Hank uttered those words he turned his head away to not watch as Nines licked the blood off. “Jesus, in all my years….”, he mumbled. Nines could understand his reaction. He refused to put the thing in his mouth and just swiped the evidence with his fingers.

The results were certainly not what he expected. His HUD showed clearly the identity of each substance he ever “licked” but this time it showed an error. No information found. Error. Search the database….information not found. Error.

“Well?”, said Hank.

“I’m unable to identify the origins of this substance. That…never happened before.”

Connor frowned at that. “That’s impossible.”, he retorted. “You’re my upgrade, you should be able to identify every object that exists in the world.”

“There is no information on…that.”

Hank grumbled and reluctantly pulled out one of the bags for collecting evidence. He put the protective gloves on first and then put the strange object into the bag. “I’ll pass it on to the forensics, maybe they’ll find something we can’t.”. He also shuddered at the thought of showing up with THIS at the DPD. His friends are going to have a field day. Perhaps he’ll ask a rookie to do it for him instead. The thought alone made him smile, as he imagined some poor guy explaining the reason for walking with a modified sex toy.

Meanwhile, Nines walked away deeper into the alley to search for more clues. “I’ll take a look that way, perhaps I’ll find more evidence.”, he said.

Connor nodded. “It seems the thirium had been painted before the killer brought the victim’s body. I’ll ask if anyone has witnessed a tall man with paintbrushes working on a graffiti, perhaps they saw something.”. It was a good strategy but Nines doubted it would provide any useful information. Most of the time, people preferred to either ignore or forget they ever saw anything. However, according to pedestrian movement on that day, there was a 68% chance that they’ll get a witness. Nines thought those chances were high enough. They had to be.

He walked off further away, as he said, and ventured into the gaping maw of an urban labyrinth. It smelled of piss and rotten food. The walls were covered in waste and the usual city junk. He scanned every tiny piece of trash he could find, looking for clues in every broken bottle and every scrap of paper and litter. There was none. Eventually, he walked off so far away that he met a T-junction at the end of the street.

He looked behind. Connor was talking to Hank about possible witnesses and his suspicions. Nines had many.

He’s going to investigate Carl Manfred’s House the next day, the thought crossed his mind.

He was about to turn around, disappointed in his lack of findings when something caught his cybernetic eye. Behind the left corner of the T-junction, there was a stack of used cartons, some of which had a logo of the nearest supermarket. They were stacked like huge books, squashed against the wall. Of course, there was dirt all over them, but Nines noticed that the dirt had its patterns and the more he looked, the more he realized what those patterns represented.

[Identify object]

[scanning]

…

…

[Scanning Complete]

[Shoe size: 38]

[Shoe size: 39]

[Compare to previous evidence?]

[Y/N]

…

[Evidence match: POSITIVE]

The same shoe markings as at the crime scene. He could tell that one belonged to the killer. The other, though, was different from the second pair of footprints they found near the victim and yet, his programming recognized them. They seemed… almost familiar.

And then, as fast as lightning, the puzzle clicked and Nines had his answer.

Exactly same shoe markings as Gavin’s.

Gavin’s shoes. He was here.

No, that’s not possible. He’s dead. How could he be here? Those shoes probably belonged to someone else, there were hundreds of those on the market with the same soles. Except Nines remembered with pedantic accuracy, each indentation, each shape, and imperfection of Gavin’s footprints. He was here.

Nines felt his core biocomponents heating up as more memories emerged from the depths of his mind and the anger, that all-consuming anger raised it’s ugly head and demanded justice. Explanation. Revenge.

What was going on here?

If he were human, he would punch the wall in frustration.

If he were human, he would scream.

But he wasn’t. So he stewed inside and instead racked his robotic brain with a hundred theories, each one more ridiculous than the other.

Why? How? He was shaken. So shaken in fact, that he missed Connor’s approaching footsteps.

“Nines, did you find anything?”

Nines startled and turned around to face his brother. He tried, with great effort, to hide his feelings but unfortunately, Connor either knew him too well or the deviancy virus somehow affected his programming to a wider extent.

“No. There’s nothing here.”, he lied.

Connor squinted his eyes at that.

“Really?”, he asked skeptically. Nines moved in front of him, trying to hide the cartons, but Connor wasn’t stupid. “What are you hiding?”

He tried pushing Nines away but he wouldn’t budge. He let out a sigh of frustration.

“Nines, if you won’t move away I’ll tell captain Fowler you’ve been obstructing our investigation.”

“…there’s nothing here.”

“Nines.”

“…”

“…I’m calling the Captain.”

Nines cursed and rubbed his eyes, though he didn’t have to. A human habit he got from Gavin.

“Fine, fine! I found something but it’s ridiculous and absolutely impossible. See for yourself.”

Connor did. He looked, scanned, and then looked again in huge disbelief. He resembled a surprised puppy and the only thing missing were two floppy ears and a wagging tail.

“Those are Gavin’s footprints.”, he said.

“No, he’s dead.”

“That’s true. With this new evidence, however…”

“He’s fucking dead!”, Nines shouted and Connor immediately shut up. God, he almost punched a wall. He can’t lose this case because of his stupid emotions. Get a grip on yourself!

“I’m sorry”, he said in the most sincere voice he could muster. Connor nodded, though Nines had a feeling he just didn’t want to disturb him more.

“We’ll find an explanation for this. I promise.” He said.

“I know. I’m sorry.”, Nines repeated.

“It’s all right. You have every right to feel angry.”

Connor was about to walk away when Nines grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. He turned around and noticed how Nines is trying really hard to not hide his feelings this time. He waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts, and waited some more.

“I just don’t want to give myself hope.”, he finally blurted out. Connor nodded and hugged his brother. He understood the real message behind these words. Hope could lead to relief. But it also could end in a bigger disappointment and renewed grief and other hundreds of emotions, which Nines was already struggling with. At the same time, Connor felt proud of his sibling.

“Let’s go. Hank is waiting for us.”

Nines agreed. They won’t find anything new here.


End file.
